


Middle of the Line

by ozymandias314



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ableism, Disability, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4509636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozymandias314/pseuds/ozymandias314
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's brain has been fried by HYDRA, leaving him severely disabled. Tony thinks Bucky is gone. Steve disagrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Middle of the Line

**Author's Note:**

> So I read [this fic](https://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1504.html?thread=2422496#cmt2422496), and I got annoyed because Ableism, and then I fixed it. This may make more sense if you read the fic I'm mad at first.

As he left Bucky’s room, Tony felt a hand on his shoulder. Steve. 

“Knock it off,” Steve said. 

The quick calculation of whether to play innocent or to snarkily downplay what he did was short-circuited by the fact that Tony legitimately had no idea what he did. Finally he settled on “What?” 

Not his most clever comment, but then even Buffy had her off days. 

“Bucky doesn’t want your pity,” Steve said. 

Shit, is that what this is about?

“I paid for his treatment,” Tony said. “Doctors fucking overcharged me too, I better get the Tony Stark wing of the hospital from this, it’s been nearly two months since I had a giant building with my n--”

“Thank you for paying for it,” Steve said. Tony did not know how one man could simultaneously be that earnest and that sarcastic. “But still, Bucky and I would appreciate--.”

Christ. This was too much. “Bucky can’t appreciate anything. Bucky can’t want anything,” Tony said. “Because Bucky is dead.”

That last word shattered in the air like broken glass. Tony felt an unfamiliar emotion in his chest. 

“Gosh,” Steve said. “You should probably submit that to a medical journal. Make some contributions to biology to go along with your contributions to physics. People are going to be very surprised to discover a dead person who still breathes.”

“In every way that counts, he’s dead,” Tony said, following his usual policy of ‘when you find yourself in a hole, dig deeper.’ “He can’t talk, he can’t walk, he can’t even chew.”

“When I couldn’t chew,” Steve said quietly, “Bucky sat there for hours, feeding me soup, spoonful by spoonful.”

Tony shook it off. “That’s different--”

“Because I got better?” Steve asked. “And if I hadn’t, you’d have wanted him and my mom to leave me to die?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way,” Tony began.

“I know what it’s like to have Bucky dead.” Steve leaned against the wall, and if he weren’t Captain America, paragon of goodness and righteousness and proper posture, Tony would think he was slouching. “I watched him die. And-- you think I don’t want to be able to talk to my best friend? But I get to see his smile. I know that he likes his baths and his chocolate and his walks, that he loves me, and that he knows I love him, and when he was dead I didn't get to do any of that. I will happily change Bucky’s diaper every day, because if I have to change his diaper, it means he’s not dead.”

"But he is," Tony said. "There’s a shell of a person that you’re pretending is him because you don’t want to give up the last connection you have to the time of polio and newsreels. The actual Bucky is gone.”

“Wanda says he has emotions,” Steve said, “and he’s happy.”

“No memories,” Tony said. “Can’t talk, can’t think-- is that really still him?”

“Yes,” Steve said. 

Steve spoke with complete certainty. It was a bit hard to argue with. Looking into his icy blue eyes, the cool confidence in his own correctness, Tony wondered if this is what HYDRA members felt in their last moments before they got a shield to the forehead. 

“You know that noise he makes? ‘uuu-eee’?” Steve’s imitation was uncanny. “Wanda says he’s trying to say ‘Steve.’”

Tony looked at the wall, momentarily at a loss for words (an event he usually preferred to admit never happened).

“I’m with Bucky until the end of the line,” Steve said. “And this? This is not the end of the line. This is the middle.”


End file.
